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KAIA
The saying "opposites attract" couldn't be any more true when it comes to William and I.
William is an older businessman, I'm a younger unemployed girl. William's idea of fun is spending hours at a quiet golf course with his friends, while my idea of fun is drunkenly dancing atop of club tables. When William is waking up at five in the morning to start his day, I'm just slipping into bed. He considers himself a wine snob, drinking only the most expensive bottles of wine where I could care less. If it's cheap and gets me drunk, I'll drink it. He's married and I'm....Well I guess I'm just his mistress.
We seem to have nothing in common, yet somehow we work.
"I'm here." I speak into the phone as I pace back and forth in the hotel room. I'm standing right in front of the large window that overlooks Central Park. Every week we meet at the same exact hotel, in the same exact room, with the same exact view. Oddly enough, it doesn't get old.
I can hear William thank his driver and a car door shut before he speaks, "I'll be up in a few, doll."
I don't have the chance to respond before he hangs up, so I toss my phone onto the bed and begin to check my appearance. I run my fingers through my straightened hair, pull my shirt down to expose a bit more cleavage, and hike my skirt up to reveal a lot more thigh. My feet quickly shuffle towards the bathroom with my purse in hand so I can touch up my makeup. I know I'm about to spring something totally unexpected onto him. I want to make sure I at least look good doing it.
I can hear the electronic lock to the hotel room's door beep before it swings open and William makes his presence known, "Kaia?"
"Over here!" I strut out of the bathroom with a huge grin and stare at him with eyes full of awe.
In front of me is the only man walking the planet who can make my stomach erupt with butterflies.
As always, William is clad in his custom Italian suit that hugs his surprisingly muscular build with custom loafers on his feet to match. He runs his fingers through his thick, black hair that has grays gathering at his temples before going to tug his tie away from his shirt. The entire time, his brown eyes—that almost look black they're so dark—are stuck on me. His intense tunnel vision means he's here for one thing and one thing only.
At fifty-three—nearly three decades older than me—William's sex drive is almost double that of men my age. He can be a bit of a selfish lover, taking what he needs when he needs it with little regard for making me come, but for some odd reason it adds to the appeal. He desires every inch of my body and wants to use it all for himself. It makes me feel wanted.
Stella says I'm only attracted to him because I have some deep-rooted daddy issues I need to work through, but I think that's bullshit. The girl has just watched one too many psychology videos on YouTube.
